My brain is empty. I feel the need to post a blog post tonight, though. I'm putting so much pressure on myself. I like the pressure. Embrace the pressure. Do not be intimidated by it. Love it. Feel your power.
What do I want from life? I'll be 30 in about 2 months. I know that I do want to make a living by writing, preferably on my own schedule. Writing on a strict deadline all the time like a journalist would make me insane.
I want to find love someday. Most of the time I am okay being single, but in my quietest moments, I do wish I had somebody besides my dogs to keep me company. Somebody I love who loves me back. Through sickness and health and all that.
I want to figure out how to train my dogs a little better. I hate that I groom and write about dogs and mine can be so unruly. Hm, project for my next day off: Google dog training and try to pick up some pointers.
I want to eventually make enough money to be able to travel. I love to travel and hate that I can't afford it right now. I can't even afford to pay someone to watch my dogs in order for me to leave town (I don't know anybody willing to watch my Little Monsters for free).
I want to want to lose weight enough to actually do something about it. Right now, I'm so lackadaisical about even wanting to lose weight that I'm not in any frame of mind to actually tackle that issue.
This is sounding like a whine list, and since I might just go ahead and publish this as a blog post, here is a list of things I am grateful for.
I am grateful for my loving and supporting family and friends. I wouldn't have the nerve to tackle my dreams without them. (For more about my family, read here and here.)
I am grateful for my awesome job and coworkers. This is by far the best place I have ever groomed.
I am grateful for my dogs, even if they can be a little naughty. They keep me grounded by preventing my head from floating too high in the clouds. They also bring me up when I'm feeling down. If you are new to my blog, you can read about Hailey and Dillin here and here and here and here.
I am grateful to have a (leaky) roof over my head. Read about my leaky ceiling here and here.
I am grateful to have a fairly reliable car.
Also, I am grateful that Blogger makes it so easy to do a blog and insert links; my computer/internet skills are somewhere between beginner and intermediate.
Incidentally, I was going to try to add an ad for Blogger here, but instead I found this:
...OK, never mind, I guess. Blogger now won't cooperate and put in the ad I wanted. It was for a T-shirt that says "I'm SO blogging this." I would totally buy it if I had money...also if the link actually worked.
Anyway, if you're still reading, thanks for coming inside my brain!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Puppies
Puppies. Everybody loves them. They're cute and adorable and fluffy and innocent.
But you know how you have to train a puppy to do its business outside, not chew on furniture, and come when called? Puppies also need to be trained how to be groomed. This includes learning that things like the water, dryer, clippers, and scissors won't hurt them as well as learning how to stand still.
Here's a 5-month-old Labradoodle puppy I groomed on Sunday.
This was her very first groom, and she was matted down to the skin. The only option was to shave her...and she was terrified of the clippers. This is obviously the before picture. I had intended to take an after picture, as well, but I had to groom 20 minutes past close and her owner was sitting around waiting that entire time. All I could leave was her ears and tail; everything else had to be shaved. She did OK (eventually) for having her body shaved, but her face was the most matted thing of all, and that's where she was most terrified of the clippers. That's also one of the easiest places to cut a dog. The other groomer had already left by the time I got to her face, so it was an adventure trying to wrestle her alone to shave her face. I succeeded, but the end result wasn't very pretty. At first blush, her owner said she looked amazing and thanked me profusely. I wonder what he thought when he got home and saw how choppy and uneven her face really was?
The most frustrating thing about puppies for a groomer is that many (most? all? I don't even know) groom puppies at a discount to encourage people to bring their puppies in early and often to get them used to everything. This is brilliant when people take advantage of it, but it can be frustrating in situations like the matted, terrified puppy above (groomers get paid by commission only, usually) when we're doing more work than on a well-behaved adult but getting paid less. The good outweighs the bad, of course, because many people do bring their puppies in a lot starting at 2 or 3 months old, which is exactly what we want, and many of those puppies grow up to be well-behaved adults.
Here is another puppy where pricing bit me in the butt.
This is a six-month-old Wheaten puppy. A very, very large Wheaten puppy. And crazy (as Wheatens tend to be). And the owners just wanted about an inch taken off all over (his hair was at least 4-5 inches long). So now I have to do a somewhat difficult haircut on a crazy, wiggly, scared-of-the-clippers-I-am-trying-to-skim-him-with puppy. All for a smaller commission because he's only 6 months old.
Now let me emphasize that this all works out okay in the end. Most puppies grow up to be well-behaved, and puppies are the best way to get regular request clients. And they definitely are cute, and it feels good to make them even cuter. The craziness is all just part of the job.
To finish, here is a puppy picture of Hailey that her original owner emailed to me. I got her when she was five months old and nowhere near this tiny.
But you know how you have to train a puppy to do its business outside, not chew on furniture, and come when called? Puppies also need to be trained how to be groomed. This includes learning that things like the water, dryer, clippers, and scissors won't hurt them as well as learning how to stand still.
Here's a 5-month-old Labradoodle puppy I groomed on Sunday.
This was her very first groom, and she was matted down to the skin. The only option was to shave her...and she was terrified of the clippers. This is obviously the before picture. I had intended to take an after picture, as well, but I had to groom 20 minutes past close and her owner was sitting around waiting that entire time. All I could leave was her ears and tail; everything else had to be shaved. She did OK (eventually) for having her body shaved, but her face was the most matted thing of all, and that's where she was most terrified of the clippers. That's also one of the easiest places to cut a dog. The other groomer had already left by the time I got to her face, so it was an adventure trying to wrestle her alone to shave her face. I succeeded, but the end result wasn't very pretty. At first blush, her owner said she looked amazing and thanked me profusely. I wonder what he thought when he got home and saw how choppy and uneven her face really was?
The most frustrating thing about puppies for a groomer is that many (most? all? I don't even know) groom puppies at a discount to encourage people to bring their puppies in early and often to get them used to everything. This is brilliant when people take advantage of it, but it can be frustrating in situations like the matted, terrified puppy above (groomers get paid by commission only, usually) when we're doing more work than on a well-behaved adult but getting paid less. The good outweighs the bad, of course, because many people do bring their puppies in a lot starting at 2 or 3 months old, which is exactly what we want, and many of those puppies grow up to be well-behaved adults.
Here is another puppy where pricing bit me in the butt.
This is a six-month-old Wheaten puppy. A very, very large Wheaten puppy. And crazy (as Wheatens tend to be). And the owners just wanted about an inch taken off all over (his hair was at least 4-5 inches long). So now I have to do a somewhat difficult haircut on a crazy, wiggly, scared-of-the-clippers-I-am-trying-to-skim-him-with puppy. All for a smaller commission because he's only 6 months old.
Now let me emphasize that this all works out okay in the end. Most puppies grow up to be well-behaved, and puppies are the best way to get regular request clients. And they definitely are cute, and it feels good to make them even cuter. The craziness is all just part of the job.
To finish, here is a puppy picture of Hailey that her original owner emailed to me. I got her when she was five months old and nowhere near this tiny.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Good Dogs
For all the times I've complained about hard days, naughty dogs, or difficult customers, I thought I should make up for it by writing about some of my favorite dogs and customers.
I'm trying to remember to take more pictures, but I either forget or run out of time, so bear with me as I build up my picture arsenal. I did get one picture today. This is the best Alaskan Malamute ever!
Not the best picture, sorry. I am definitely a better writer than photographer. Anyway, she's huge and hairy and usually takes a full two hours start to finish, but she behaves perfectly well. She likes to talk a lot, but she jumps everywhere I need her to without being asked twice. I can take her leash off as soon as she walks through the door and never have to worry about her. She helps make up for all the big dogs I have to pick up into the tub or wrestle to trim their butt.
Then there are the dogs you love for no particular reason. One of my favorite dogs is a really old cocker. I think he's about 17. He's all skin and bones, deaf, wobbly, and covered in moles, but I just love him to pieces. His mom makes me a little nuts sometimes, but he is the sweetest dog ever - well, except when he has a senile moment. Those aren't pretty. He's a little difficult to groom and I can't make him look all that great, but I love him all the same.
There are also dogs where maybe you don't love the dog itself, but the customer is so amazing that you can't help but love the dog, too. I do this Tibetan Terrier who is getting a little older and fussier. The customer likes her feet to look "like square Grinch Feet," which still frustrates me after grooming her more than a year because the most emphasized shape in grooming is round. Round, round, round...square? Anyway, I don't dislike the dog herself, I like her OK, but I LOVE her mom. This woman is absolutely amazing and has adopted/rescued two highly special needs dogs. She is always perky and bubbly, even at 8 in the morning.
I also have dogs I enjoy because they either make me feel like a good groomer or make me feel like I'm learning more on my way to becoming a better groomer. This is particularly true for this one customer who has a bichon and a Westie, and she likes both of them to look pretty close to show dogs. I don't think I'm quite that good yet, but I definitely get better every time.
Here's the Westie. She absolutely positively REFUSED to look at the camera. She doesn't particularly like to look straight ahead when I am attempting to trim her face, either. So here's a side view, and I am pretty impressed that her skirt looks hand stripped rather than cut with clippers (I used a 4F blade for you other groomers out there who might care).
Some dogs I love because of their personality, some I love because of their parents, and some I love because I can make them look good.
I definitely like most of the dogs I groom. Unfortunately, the difficult ones tend to stick out in my memory the most. So I will try to throw in pictures and stories of my favorite dogs from time to time to balance out the other stories.
I'm trying to remember to take more pictures, but I either forget or run out of time, so bear with me as I build up my picture arsenal. I did get one picture today. This is the best Alaskan Malamute ever!
Not the best picture, sorry. I am definitely a better writer than photographer. Anyway, she's huge and hairy and usually takes a full two hours start to finish, but she behaves perfectly well. She likes to talk a lot, but she jumps everywhere I need her to without being asked twice. I can take her leash off as soon as she walks through the door and never have to worry about her. She helps make up for all the big dogs I have to pick up into the tub or wrestle to trim their butt.
Then there are the dogs you love for no particular reason. One of my favorite dogs is a really old cocker. I think he's about 17. He's all skin and bones, deaf, wobbly, and covered in moles, but I just love him to pieces. His mom makes me a little nuts sometimes, but he is the sweetest dog ever - well, except when he has a senile moment. Those aren't pretty. He's a little difficult to groom and I can't make him look all that great, but I love him all the same.
There are also dogs where maybe you don't love the dog itself, but the customer is so amazing that you can't help but love the dog, too. I do this Tibetan Terrier who is getting a little older and fussier. The customer likes her feet to look "like square Grinch Feet," which still frustrates me after grooming her more than a year because the most emphasized shape in grooming is round. Round, round, round...square? Anyway, I don't dislike the dog herself, I like her OK, but I LOVE her mom. This woman is absolutely amazing and has adopted/rescued two highly special needs dogs. She is always perky and bubbly, even at 8 in the morning.
I also have dogs I enjoy because they either make me feel like a good groomer or make me feel like I'm learning more on my way to becoming a better groomer. This is particularly true for this one customer who has a bichon and a Westie, and she likes both of them to look pretty close to show dogs. I don't think I'm quite that good yet, but I definitely get better every time.
Here's the Westie. She absolutely positively REFUSED to look at the camera. She doesn't particularly like to look straight ahead when I am attempting to trim her face, either. So here's a side view, and I am pretty impressed that her skirt looks hand stripped rather than cut with clippers (I used a 4F blade for you other groomers out there who might care).
Some dogs I love because of their personality, some I love because of their parents, and some I love because I can make them look good.
I definitely like most of the dogs I groom. Unfortunately, the difficult ones tend to stick out in my memory the most. So I will try to throw in pictures and stories of my favorite dogs from time to time to balance out the other stories.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Family, Part 2
I love watching my mom interact with her brother. He lives out of state, so I don't get to see him very often. Not only does he have a great sense of humor, but he is really the only person on the planet (that I am aware of) who can get away with ribbing my mom like that. And I get to hear stories from when they were kids - like apparently my mom once stabbed my uncle's hand with a fork because he reached in front of her.
I also love to see my brother and his wife interacting.When I see the way he looks at her, I wonder if he is the same person I grew up with. He really is a better man since he met her. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned all this before, so I apologize if you already know how in awe of my sister-in-law I am. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that she was able to tame my brother - after all, she is a preschool teacher. I sometimes wonder what made her fall in love with him to begin with, but he is definitely lovable now that she's gotten to him.
Back to the Facebook thing I think I mentioned the other day, how Facebook brings me closer to my out of state family; I got to read some of my cousin's writing today. I didn't know she liked to write, also (I do remember she is an incredible artist). So that was really neat, another way to get closer to her. She's pretty good, too.
OK, that's it for tonight, it's late. As always, thanks for reading and feel free to comment.
I also love to see my brother and his wife interacting.When I see the way he looks at her, I wonder if he is the same person I grew up with. He really is a better man since he met her. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned all this before, so I apologize if you already know how in awe of my sister-in-law I am. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that she was able to tame my brother - after all, she is a preschool teacher. I sometimes wonder what made her fall in love with him to begin with, but he is definitely lovable now that she's gotten to him.
Back to the Facebook thing I think I mentioned the other day, how Facebook brings me closer to my out of state family; I got to read some of my cousin's writing today. I didn't know she liked to write, also (I do remember she is an incredible artist). So that was really neat, another way to get closer to her. She's pretty good, too.
OK, that's it for tonight, it's late. As always, thanks for reading and feel free to comment.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Grooming While Injured
No matter what kind of job you have, working when you are hurt, sick, or otherwise not feeling well sucks! I think some jobs are harder than others, though, when it comes to working when you don't feel good. Grooming is definitely one of those.
One of the problems is that if you don't feel good, the dogs pick up on your negative energy and tend to misbehave more, which, of course, makes you feel even worse. The worse you feel, the more they misbehave, the more they misbehave, the worse you feel.
Also, grooming is a very physically demanding job. I usually spend most of my day on my feet, but I sprained my ankle a couple of days ago, so I need to sit as much as possible. Some groomers are more comfortable sitting, some are more comfortable standing. I prefer to stand. I find it easier for me to move around the dogs than to move the dogs every which way to reach all sides. So when I sit, I'm not as comfortable with my grooming style, which the dogs also pick up on. Also, I realized today, many of my request dogs are used to standing still and facing one direction the entire groom; they did not appreciate being manhandled so much.
Also, grooming (like most jobs I suppose) is a job based on habits. When you are used to doing everything the same way, the slightest change is annoying. I had to slightly alter a lot of things today, including how I pick dogs up.
I apologize, this blog post has been far whinier than I intended.
One great thing about my job is that some of the dogs can absolutely make you feel better when you don't feel good. They say having a pet reduces your blood pressure; I'll bet the same holds true for working with dogs.
Also, my regular customers actually care bout me as a person. Most jobs, you need to suck it up and pretend you are OK, ESPECIALLY when you are dealing with customers. My background in retail causes me to put on that fake smile with most people, but it is nice to be able to occasionally let my guard down.
It also helps that I really enjoy my coworkers, and they and my boss genuinely care about me and my well-being.
How about you and your job? What are the pros and cons about working when you are sick or injured?
One of the problems is that if you don't feel good, the dogs pick up on your negative energy and tend to misbehave more, which, of course, makes you feel even worse. The worse you feel, the more they misbehave, the more they misbehave, the worse you feel.
Also, grooming is a very physically demanding job. I usually spend most of my day on my feet, but I sprained my ankle a couple of days ago, so I need to sit as much as possible. Some groomers are more comfortable sitting, some are more comfortable standing. I prefer to stand. I find it easier for me to move around the dogs than to move the dogs every which way to reach all sides. So when I sit, I'm not as comfortable with my grooming style, which the dogs also pick up on. Also, I realized today, many of my request dogs are used to standing still and facing one direction the entire groom; they did not appreciate being manhandled so much.
Also, grooming (like most jobs I suppose) is a job based on habits. When you are used to doing everything the same way, the slightest change is annoying. I had to slightly alter a lot of things today, including how I pick dogs up.
I apologize, this blog post has been far whinier than I intended.
One great thing about my job is that some of the dogs can absolutely make you feel better when you don't feel good. They say having a pet reduces your blood pressure; I'll bet the same holds true for working with dogs.
Also, my regular customers actually care bout me as a person. Most jobs, you need to suck it up and pretend you are OK, ESPECIALLY when you are dealing with customers. My background in retail causes me to put on that fake smile with most people, but it is nice to be able to occasionally let my guard down.
It also helps that I really enjoy my coworkers, and they and my boss genuinely care about me and my well-being.
How about you and your job? What are the pros and cons about working when you are sick or injured?
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Family
I know I've talked about my family here and there, but I wanted to dedicate an entire post not just to my family, but families in general, whether those families are biological, through marriage, or by choice.
This came to mind today for a couple of reasons. This morning after I hurt my ankle (read about that here), I was extraordinarily grateful that I live in the same apartment complex as my mom (and also that she is AMAZING).
Also, one of my uncles is coming to town this weekend. We moved to (insert my undisclosed location here) when I was 3, but both of my parents grew up in the same city in the Midwest, about 1000 miles away. So I was never physically close to my extended family, except for when we would visit once or twice a year. Now that I am an adult, it is difficult to get time off work to go out there and visit, so I am sad to say it has been almost three years since I have last been out there.
This uncle was also out here several months ago, and I was very happy to see him then. A lot of my dad's side of the family came out here for his wedding last month, so it was wonderful to see them then.
But it has been Facebook that has brought me closer to so much of my family. I feel more connected to cousins I didn't grow up with; I can see how family members who are not on Facebook are doing through the posts of other family members; and my aunts and uncles can get to know me better and see how I am doing.
This blog is another way for me to reach out to all of that family that I did not grow up with and hardly get to see.
So there's extended family, and I just mentioned the other day (see here for that post) how much I love my immediate family.
So then, of course, there is the family you inherit through marriage.
My younger brother, who I don't talk about much, married an amazing woman on Christmas Day. She is an absolute saint - she's a preschool teacher! My brother has become a better man because of her (not to mention happier). He's even discussed having kids with her, which is amazing because our entire childhood, he swore up and down that he would never have kids. I've only met my sister-in-law's family once, but they seem awesome as well, which isn't a surprise because of how wonderful she turned out.
I am also getting to know a new family through my new stepmother. The youngest victim of last week's atrocity looks like a blond version of my youngest stepsister, who I don't know very well, but my heart breaks at the thought of her life being cut short.
My stepbrothers seem like good guys, although I have to admit I do not know them well. In fact, all of my stepmother's family seem very nice, and I look forward to getting to know them all better as time goes on.
That leaves the family you choose, otherwise known as friends, or maybe even just your work family. I really like my work family. Everybody absolutely supports each other. While I do have many friends, I don't necessarily have friends I would consider family (outside of my work family).
But I have known and seen many examples of friend families. For example, my ex was closer to his best friend than he was to his own brother. They could just walk into each other's homes and were absolutely welcomed in each other's families. I've also seen several of my own friends have these relationships.
And then, after a tragedy like what happened last week, stories come out from best friends of victims who say their friend was like a sibling. And I have no doubt in my mind that they mean every word when they say that.
Oh, I forgot one more family: my fur children. I have no intention of ever having human kids, so my dogs are as close as it gets to having children. I absolutely know that I am not the only person who includes pets as family members. As much as they make me crazy sometimes, they are my kids, and I wouldn't trade them for anything.
So tell me about your family, fur or otherwise. I would love your opinions on family in general. What does family mean to you?
This came to mind today for a couple of reasons. This morning after I hurt my ankle (read about that here), I was extraordinarily grateful that I live in the same apartment complex as my mom (and also that she is AMAZING).
Also, one of my uncles is coming to town this weekend. We moved to (insert my undisclosed location here) when I was 3, but both of my parents grew up in the same city in the Midwest, about 1000 miles away. So I was never physically close to my extended family, except for when we would visit once or twice a year. Now that I am an adult, it is difficult to get time off work to go out there and visit, so I am sad to say it has been almost three years since I have last been out there.
This uncle was also out here several months ago, and I was very happy to see him then. A lot of my dad's side of the family came out here for his wedding last month, so it was wonderful to see them then.
But it has been Facebook that has brought me closer to so much of my family. I feel more connected to cousins I didn't grow up with; I can see how family members who are not on Facebook are doing through the posts of other family members; and my aunts and uncles can get to know me better and see how I am doing.
This blog is another way for me to reach out to all of that family that I did not grow up with and hardly get to see.
So there's extended family, and I just mentioned the other day (see here for that post) how much I love my immediate family.
So then, of course, there is the family you inherit through marriage.
My younger brother, who I don't talk about much, married an amazing woman on Christmas Day. She is an absolute saint - she's a preschool teacher! My brother has become a better man because of her (not to mention happier). He's even discussed having kids with her, which is amazing because our entire childhood, he swore up and down that he would never have kids. I've only met my sister-in-law's family once, but they seem awesome as well, which isn't a surprise because of how wonderful she turned out.
I am also getting to know a new family through my new stepmother. The youngest victim of last week's atrocity looks like a blond version of my youngest stepsister, who I don't know very well, but my heart breaks at the thought of her life being cut short.
My stepbrothers seem like good guys, although I have to admit I do not know them well. In fact, all of my stepmother's family seem very nice, and I look forward to getting to know them all better as time goes on.
That leaves the family you choose, otherwise known as friends, or maybe even just your work family. I really like my work family. Everybody absolutely supports each other. While I do have many friends, I don't necessarily have friends I would consider family (outside of my work family).
But I have known and seen many examples of friend families. For example, my ex was closer to his best friend than he was to his own brother. They could just walk into each other's homes and were absolutely welcomed in each other's families. I've also seen several of my own friends have these relationships.
And then, after a tragedy like what happened last week, stories come out from best friends of victims who say their friend was like a sibling. And I have no doubt in my mind that they mean every word when they say that.
Oh, I forgot one more family: my fur children. I have no intention of ever having human kids, so my dogs are as close as it gets to having children. I absolutely know that I am not the only person who includes pets as family members. As much as they make me crazy sometimes, they are my kids, and I wouldn't trade them for anything.
So tell me about your family, fur or otherwise. I would love your opinions on family in general. What does family mean to you?
Injured Musings
So I sprained my ankle this morning. As I was sitting in the wet grass and clutching my ankle, many different thoughts ran through my head. Some of them are not fit for print. Here's what I CAN share.
How am I going to take my dogs out if I need crutches? They are small, but they are crazy on the leash. It's partly their fault I twisted my ankle in the first place. What in the world am I going to do with and about them if I am seriously injured?
How am I going to pay for this? I can JUST BARELY afford the up front fee at Urgent Care (I don't have insurance); if I need X-Rays or something, I'll need to borrow money from my mom. I did apply for a credit card for emergencies such as this, but it hasn't come in the mail yet. Go figure.
How am I going to pay my bills if I can't work? Some parts of my job I can do while sitting, other things...not so much. And again, I'm broke, what do I do if I miss a big chunk of work? I don't get any paid time off; if I can't work, I can't make money.
I'M REALLY GLAD I LIVE ON THE FIRST FLOOR.
How am I going to get myself and my dogs inside? Luckily I had my phone in my pocket, so worse come to worst, I could call my mom and have her help me back inside. (Fortunately, one of my neighbors came outside to smoke and offered to help me. I could put JUST enough weight on my ankle to hobble home if she could manage my psycho mutts. I felt REALLY bad that they were leaving wet paw prints all over her beige linen pants, but what could I do?)
I'm SO glad I'm finally getting serious about writing. As a writer, I could injure my legs or back and still be able to work and make money. Yes, an arm injury would suck, but even one free hand could write, it would just take longer.
I really wish I had insurance. What am I going to do if I need surgery? It's only been a couple years since my bankruptcy; if I rack up hospital bills now, I can't do another bankruptcy for about eight years. I'd be so screwed.
I seriously need to do some training with my dogs. This is getting ridiculous. I shouldn't have to change direction every time we see another dog or human. And Hailey needs to stop forgetting to poop.
Am I going to be able to drive with an injured clutch ankle? I really would like a better car someday. This one is infinitely better than what I drove last summer, though, and it is (mostly) reliable. So it's fine. Unless I can't use the clutch. Then it's not fine.
I'M SO GLAD I LIVE SO CLOSE TO MY MOM AND SHE DOESN'T HAVE AN OFFICE JOB.
I lean on my mom a lot under normal circumstances, but in a situation like this...at least I knew I could get a ride to Urgent Care and help paying for things if necessary. Thanks Mom!
Luckily most of these thoughts became moot points. The up front fee was $120, but they didn't need to do X-Rays or anything, which is good. I don't even have to miss work if I'm up to it and can sit as much as possible.
So I'm relieved, although I do still need to consider my money fears. My financial situation right now is not good. Right now, I'm treating my writing as a part-time job; do I need to find a part-time job that pays now rather than later? I just don't know.
Well, thanks for listening to my ramblings, I'll try to post something happier later today.
How am I going to take my dogs out if I need crutches? They are small, but they are crazy on the leash. It's partly their fault I twisted my ankle in the first place. What in the world am I going to do with and about them if I am seriously injured?
How am I going to pay for this? I can JUST BARELY afford the up front fee at Urgent Care (I don't have insurance); if I need X-Rays or something, I'll need to borrow money from my mom. I did apply for a credit card for emergencies such as this, but it hasn't come in the mail yet. Go figure.
How am I going to pay my bills if I can't work? Some parts of my job I can do while sitting, other things...not so much. And again, I'm broke, what do I do if I miss a big chunk of work? I don't get any paid time off; if I can't work, I can't make money.
I'M REALLY GLAD I LIVE ON THE FIRST FLOOR.
How am I going to get myself and my dogs inside? Luckily I had my phone in my pocket, so worse come to worst, I could call my mom and have her help me back inside. (Fortunately, one of my neighbors came outside to smoke and offered to help me. I could put JUST enough weight on my ankle to hobble home if she could manage my psycho mutts. I felt REALLY bad that they were leaving wet paw prints all over her beige linen pants, but what could I do?)
I'm SO glad I'm finally getting serious about writing. As a writer, I could injure my legs or back and still be able to work and make money. Yes, an arm injury would suck, but even one free hand could write, it would just take longer.
I really wish I had insurance. What am I going to do if I need surgery? It's only been a couple years since my bankruptcy; if I rack up hospital bills now, I can't do another bankruptcy for about eight years. I'd be so screwed.
I seriously need to do some training with my dogs. This is getting ridiculous. I shouldn't have to change direction every time we see another dog or human. And Hailey needs to stop forgetting to poop.
Am I going to be able to drive with an injured clutch ankle? I really would like a better car someday. This one is infinitely better than what I drove last summer, though, and it is (mostly) reliable. So it's fine. Unless I can't use the clutch. Then it's not fine.
I'M SO GLAD I LIVE SO CLOSE TO MY MOM AND SHE DOESN'T HAVE AN OFFICE JOB.
I lean on my mom a lot under normal circumstances, but in a situation like this...at least I knew I could get a ride to Urgent Care and help paying for things if necessary. Thanks Mom!
Luckily most of these thoughts became moot points. The up front fee was $120, but they didn't need to do X-Rays or anything, which is good. I don't even have to miss work if I'm up to it and can sit as much as possible.
So I'm relieved, although I do still need to consider my money fears. My financial situation right now is not good. Right now, I'm treating my writing as a part-time job; do I need to find a part-time job that pays now rather than later? I just don't know.
Well, thanks for listening to my ramblings, I'll try to post something happier later today.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Hailey and the Bug
For whatever reason, I am having a hard time working on my current project; it has taken me an hour and a half to write 600 words. So I figured I would do a blog post to try to get my brain juices flowing again.
I was looking through my recent pictures for inspiration, and I found one I had forgotten about.
This was the day I brought them in to work to groom them. I was getting their leashes ready and had my back turned when I heard Hailey jump on the door twice. I said Yes, Yes, I'm coming, hold your horses, and then I turned around and saw this:
That's a pincer bug she's trying to get (I must stop and interject here: I had originally spelled it "pincher" and spell check's suggestions were puncher, pincer, pinches, pitcher, and pinched. Yes, my mistake, I was talking about a puncher bug.).
Anyway, Hailey is a very good bug catcher, and there was no way she was leaving the house without getting the bug first. So I stood back and snapped pictures while she reached as high as she could and then some.
GET BACK HERE!
But patience prevailed and the bug eventually wandered within Hailey's reach.
And Hailey is such a good big sister that she was willing to share.
Dillin seemed to lose it after a minute, so I don't know if he ate it and forgot or if it somehow escaped the attention of all three of us and escaped. In any case, I haven't seen it since.
As much as I loved Dexter, bugs just weren't his thing, so it's fun to have dogs who like to catch bugs (unless you're outside and they are tracking yellow jackets).
Well, that's it for now, I will always come back to bring you more adventures!
I was looking through my recent pictures for inspiration, and I found one I had forgotten about.
This was the day I brought them in to work to groom them. I was getting their leashes ready and had my back turned when I heard Hailey jump on the door twice. I said Yes, Yes, I'm coming, hold your horses, and then I turned around and saw this:
That's a pincer bug she's trying to get (I must stop and interject here: I had originally spelled it "pincher" and spell check's suggestions were puncher, pincer, pinches, pitcher, and pinched. Yes, my mistake, I was talking about a puncher bug.).
Anyway, Hailey is a very good bug catcher, and there was no way she was leaving the house without getting the bug first. So I stood back and snapped pictures while she reached as high as she could and then some.
GET BACK HERE!
But patience prevailed and the bug eventually wandered within Hailey's reach.
Of course Dillin felt he deserved to have some fun with the bug too, so he butted in.
Dillin seemed to lose it after a minute, so I don't know if he ate it and forgot or if it somehow escaped the attention of all three of us and escaped. In any case, I haven't seen it since.
As much as I loved Dexter, bugs just weren't his thing, so it's fun to have dogs who like to catch bugs (unless you're outside and they are tracking yellow jackets).
Well, that's it for now, I will always come back to bring you more adventures!
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
The Green Line (Not to be Confused With the Green Mile)
When I was having dinner with my dad and stepmom tonight, I was trying to explain how I felt that I had finally found the direction my life is meant to take.
I dropped out of college partway into my Junior year, partly because I still had NO idea what I wanted to major in, and I didn't want to waste any more money on classes that might go to waste while I decided on what I wanted to do. (It was also partly to try to better cope with the first REALLY MAJOR depressive episode of my life.)
I fell into dog grooming rather by accident, and I've been piddling around with this for 8 years while I tried to figure out what I really wanted to DO with my life. I've always (or for at least the last five years or so) known that I didn't want to be a dog groomer for the rest of my life. It is much too physically demanding, and I already have a bad back. I've seen what happens to groomers down the road (carpal tunnel, tarsal tunnel, plantar fasciitis, and the list goes on), and I don't particularly want to groom until my body completely falls apart and I suddenly have nothing else to fall back on and be incapable of grooming anymore.
I always enjoyed writing, and English was one of the majors I was looking at. I didn't really know what I would do with an English degree, though. I tried journalism, but that didn't seem like the right fit.
So, off and on my whole life, I've had bursts of inspiration and done some writing. Whether that's just journal writing or the beginning of a novel I never finish, it's all the same; I've just been writing without direction.
But lately I feel I have found my direction.
It really all started with this blog, a little less than a month ago. I started blogging primarily to get in the habit of writing every single day. That is the one thing all of the professional writers tell us newbies, is to write every single day.
Then I decided I wanted to use this blog as a way to share myself with my family, my friends, and the world at large. I started putting links on my Facebook page so my friends and family could get from there to this blog.
Then my cousin told me about writerscafe.org, and I was intrigued, so I threw up a few of my blog posts and other tidbits. I discovered that this website has contests you can enter. No cash prize, but the chance to get some reviews and outsider opinions on my writing was worth entering a few.
I also decided that as long as I was blogging every day, I may as well put up some ads and try to make some money at it. In order to make money with the blog, I need to have A LOT of people seeing my blog because so few actually click on the ads (I know I almost never click on ads when I'm on the internet).
So I started a Facebook page to promote my blog (you can find The Writing Groomer there if you haven't already liked the page). So now, I had to promote a Facebook page in order for people to get from the Facebook page here to the blog where they would hopefully click on some ads.
In order to do both things, I have been all over the web, reading, liking, and commenting on anything having to do with dogs, so that hopefully people will see that activity and want to come see more from me.
So now, writing has absolutely become a part-time job for me. I've been getting good feedback, but a lot of it was from friends and family.
Then, about a week and a half ago, I won one of those writing contests (with Dexter, check it out if you haven't already). Out of 67 submissions, I got first place! I am not intending to brag here, I just have to mention this in order to say what a HUGE confidence boost that has been for me. It is one thing for my friends and family and a small handful of strangers to say they like my writing, but for a complete stranger to deem my writing better than 66 other people...
WOW.
That's huge. That's the key, that's the jackpot. Bingo. I just received validation that I am good enough to have a shot at making a living out of writing.
But it doesn't stop there. This past week I've been getting more and more comments, both here and on my Facebook page, from complete strangers saying they love what I've been doing and to keep it up.
More validation.
The icing on the cake? Winning another writing contest a few days ago (with Memoir Excerpt). There were only 22 submissions this time, but the person who created/judged the contest said mine was "the best by far."
BY FAR.
OK, now I absolutely 100% have the confidence to pursue a writing career.
So now I am FINALLY coming to the Green Line. I'm sorry this has been so long and meandering, but I have a point, I PROMISE.
Have you seen those Fidelity commercials on TV? I think they are some financial planning company. Anyway, in the commercials, they use this green line to show the path you should take to achieve your financial goals. All you have to do is hop on, and it will take you where you need to go.
This blog, whether directly or indirectly, is my GREEN LINE. For now, it is the start of my journey. I have no doubt that my green line will have some zig zags and bumps and it may fall off this blog and land somewhere else, but for now, I am in the right place and headed the right direction.
"The Green Mile" of course refers to the Stephen King book and movie of the same name. The actual walking of the Green Mile would refer to my writing career heading toward a certain death. And as you can see, that is not the direction I am taking.
OK, discussion time. What's YOUR Green Line? Have you found it yet or not? It's absolutely OK if you haven't found it yet. I JUST found mine, and I am nearly 30. I know people of all ages who haven't found theirs yet. But for those of you who HAVE found your Green Line, I would love to know what it is.
OK everybody, it's late, time for bed!
I dropped out of college partway into my Junior year, partly because I still had NO idea what I wanted to major in, and I didn't want to waste any more money on classes that might go to waste while I decided on what I wanted to do. (It was also partly to try to better cope with the first REALLY MAJOR depressive episode of my life.)
I fell into dog grooming rather by accident, and I've been piddling around with this for 8 years while I tried to figure out what I really wanted to DO with my life. I've always (or for at least the last five years or so) known that I didn't want to be a dog groomer for the rest of my life. It is much too physically demanding, and I already have a bad back. I've seen what happens to groomers down the road (carpal tunnel, tarsal tunnel, plantar fasciitis, and the list goes on), and I don't particularly want to groom until my body completely falls apart and I suddenly have nothing else to fall back on and be incapable of grooming anymore.
I always enjoyed writing, and English was one of the majors I was looking at. I didn't really know what I would do with an English degree, though. I tried journalism, but that didn't seem like the right fit.
So, off and on my whole life, I've had bursts of inspiration and done some writing. Whether that's just journal writing or the beginning of a novel I never finish, it's all the same; I've just been writing without direction.
But lately I feel I have found my direction.
It really all started with this blog, a little less than a month ago. I started blogging primarily to get in the habit of writing every single day. That is the one thing all of the professional writers tell us newbies, is to write every single day.
Then I decided I wanted to use this blog as a way to share myself with my family, my friends, and the world at large. I started putting links on my Facebook page so my friends and family could get from there to this blog.
Then my cousin told me about writerscafe.org, and I was intrigued, so I threw up a few of my blog posts and other tidbits. I discovered that this website has contests you can enter. No cash prize, but the chance to get some reviews and outsider opinions on my writing was worth entering a few.
I also decided that as long as I was blogging every day, I may as well put up some ads and try to make some money at it. In order to make money with the blog, I need to have A LOT of people seeing my blog because so few actually click on the ads (I know I almost never click on ads when I'm on the internet).
So I started a Facebook page to promote my blog (you can find The Writing Groomer there if you haven't already liked the page). So now, I had to promote a Facebook page in order for people to get from the Facebook page here to the blog where they would hopefully click on some ads.
In order to do both things, I have been all over the web, reading, liking, and commenting on anything having to do with dogs, so that hopefully people will see that activity and want to come see more from me.
So now, writing has absolutely become a part-time job for me. I've been getting good feedback, but a lot of it was from friends and family.
Then, about a week and a half ago, I won one of those writing contests (with Dexter, check it out if you haven't already). Out of 67 submissions, I got first place! I am not intending to brag here, I just have to mention this in order to say what a HUGE confidence boost that has been for me. It is one thing for my friends and family and a small handful of strangers to say they like my writing, but for a complete stranger to deem my writing better than 66 other people...
WOW.
That's huge. That's the key, that's the jackpot. Bingo. I just received validation that I am good enough to have a shot at making a living out of writing.
But it doesn't stop there. This past week I've been getting more and more comments, both here and on my Facebook page, from complete strangers saying they love what I've been doing and to keep it up.
More validation.
The icing on the cake? Winning another writing contest a few days ago (with Memoir Excerpt). There were only 22 submissions this time, but the person who created/judged the contest said mine was "the best by far."
BY FAR.
OK, now I absolutely 100% have the confidence to pursue a writing career.
So now I am FINALLY coming to the Green Line. I'm sorry this has been so long and meandering, but I have a point, I PROMISE.
Have you seen those Fidelity commercials on TV? I think they are some financial planning company. Anyway, in the commercials, they use this green line to show the path you should take to achieve your financial goals. All you have to do is hop on, and it will take you where you need to go.
This blog, whether directly or indirectly, is my GREEN LINE. For now, it is the start of my journey. I have no doubt that my green line will have some zig zags and bumps and it may fall off this blog and land somewhere else, but for now, I am in the right place and headed the right direction.
"The Green Mile" of course refers to the Stephen King book and movie of the same name. The actual walking of the Green Mile would refer to my writing career heading toward a certain death. And as you can see, that is not the direction I am taking.
OK, discussion time. What's YOUR Green Line? Have you found it yet or not? It's absolutely OK if you haven't found it yet. I JUST found mine, and I am nearly 30. I know people of all ages who haven't found theirs yet. But for those of you who HAVE found your Green Line, I would love to know what it is.
OK everybody, it's late, time for bed!
Toilet - 3, me - 0
Add in a plunger, an hour, and A LOT of towels, and you have an idea of how part of my day has been spent. Tomorrow I get to clean the bathroom floor and possibly call maintenance to have them snake the toilet. Is that messy? Maybe I need to call maintenance first...
In other news, I had brunch with my mom today. I love that my mom and I are so close; I really do consider her my best friend.
That wasn't always the case. I won't go into details, partly because she reads my blog every day, but mostly because she was the best mom she knew how to be, and I was a hormonal, bipolar teenager.
But the last few years or so, we've really developed a tight bond. Every week, I look forward to her text saying, "Do you want to do lunch today?" Sometimes I know she's going to text me before she does. But spending a couple hours talking with her is the best part of my week.
Not that that is the only time we see each other; we live in the same apartment complex, so we do occasionally see each other more than once a week. But at least once a week, we have a solid 2 hours where it's just the two of us, talking about anything and everything.
I LOVE YOU, MOM.
Pretty soon, I am heading off to have dinner with my dad and stepmom.
My dad admits he maybe wasn't there for my brother and I as much as he could have been when we were younger. He mostly just let our mom raise us while he worked and did his Navy stuff (he was a reservist).
But ever since my parents divorced about two years ago, he has really, really put forth effort into building a relationship with me. Three years ago, I would have found it awkward for my dad to walk me down the aisle, and the first dance would have been my nightmare. But now I look forward to the day that he gets to hand me over to the man of my dreams (whomever that turns out to be); my dad has finally earned that right.
So we get together every single week for dinner, usually on Tuesday nights.
I LOVE YOU, DAD.
I really like my stepmom, although it has taken a while for me to adjust to the divorce, then my dad meeting her, and everything that followed. She is a genuinely nice person, and I appreciate that she joins my dad and I for dinner and also gives us some alone time after dinner. It's perfect, and she is wonderful, and she makes my dad very happy.
I LOVE YOU, STEPMOM.
Ok, that's enough love for everybody for right now, I need to get out the door.
Everybody, remember to appreciate the people you love. You never know when one of you will no longer be around.
In other news, I had brunch with my mom today. I love that my mom and I are so close; I really do consider her my best friend.
That wasn't always the case. I won't go into details, partly because she reads my blog every day, but mostly because she was the best mom she knew how to be, and I was a hormonal, bipolar teenager.
But the last few years or so, we've really developed a tight bond. Every week, I look forward to her text saying, "Do you want to do lunch today?" Sometimes I know she's going to text me before she does. But spending a couple hours talking with her is the best part of my week.
Not that that is the only time we see each other; we live in the same apartment complex, so we do occasionally see each other more than once a week. But at least once a week, we have a solid 2 hours where it's just the two of us, talking about anything and everything.
I LOVE YOU, MOM.
Pretty soon, I am heading off to have dinner with my dad and stepmom.
My dad admits he maybe wasn't there for my brother and I as much as he could have been when we were younger. He mostly just let our mom raise us while he worked and did his Navy stuff (he was a reservist).
But ever since my parents divorced about two years ago, he has really, really put forth effort into building a relationship with me. Three years ago, I would have found it awkward for my dad to walk me down the aisle, and the first dance would have been my nightmare. But now I look forward to the day that he gets to hand me over to the man of my dreams (whomever that turns out to be); my dad has finally earned that right.
So we get together every single week for dinner, usually on Tuesday nights.
I LOVE YOU, DAD.
I really like my stepmom, although it has taken a while for me to adjust to the divorce, then my dad meeting her, and everything that followed. She is a genuinely nice person, and I appreciate that she joins my dad and I for dinner and also gives us some alone time after dinner. It's perfect, and she is wonderful, and she makes my dad very happy.
I LOVE YOU, STEPMOM.
Ok, that's enough love for everybody for right now, I need to get out the door.
Everybody, remember to appreciate the people you love. You never know when one of you will no longer be around.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Dedication
DEDICATION.
It's such a big word. Dedication. According to The Free Dictionary, dedication means: "complete and wholehearted devotion, esp to a career, ideal, etc."
I think you need passion to have dedication. I think it would be incredibly difficult to be dedicated to something you aren't passionate about. Not impossible, certainly. Maybe you aren't passionate about your job, but you like money enough to be dedicated to your job without being passionate about it. I believe I am dedicated to my job and to being the best groomer I can.
PASSION.
"Boundless enthusiasm."
My new goal is to be dedicated to writing, whether it's here or elsewhere. I've been averaging more than one blog post a day for the past three weeks, so I'd say that's a good place to start. Since my ultimate goal is to make a living by writing, I need to learn the dedication required to sit at my computer and write when there are so many distractions pulling me away. Like my dogs, who are playing at my feet right now. Or the TV I'm half watching behind me. Or, or, or...
But I do have passion. I have always been passionate about writing, but I didn't have enough focus to turn that passion into dedication. I guess that's the other piece of the puzzle...
FOCUS.
"Close or narrow attention; concentration."
OK, this blog post is a little meandering, but I guess I'm thinking out loud to discover that to reach your dreams, you need a special combination of DEDICATION, PASSION, and FOCUS.
Does anybody have anything to add? What's your take on dedication? Do you think there is another piece? What are you dedicated to? Let's start a conversation, I'm curious to hear all your comments.
It's such a big word. Dedication. According to The Free Dictionary, dedication means: "complete and wholehearted devotion, esp to a career, ideal, etc."
I think you need passion to have dedication. I think it would be incredibly difficult to be dedicated to something you aren't passionate about. Not impossible, certainly. Maybe you aren't passionate about your job, but you like money enough to be dedicated to your job without being passionate about it. I believe I am dedicated to my job and to being the best groomer I can.
PASSION.
"Boundless enthusiasm."
My new goal is to be dedicated to writing, whether it's here or elsewhere. I've been averaging more than one blog post a day for the past three weeks, so I'd say that's a good place to start. Since my ultimate goal is to make a living by writing, I need to learn the dedication required to sit at my computer and write when there are so many distractions pulling me away. Like my dogs, who are playing at my feet right now. Or the TV I'm half watching behind me. Or, or, or...
But I do have passion. I have always been passionate about writing, but I didn't have enough focus to turn that passion into dedication. I guess that's the other piece of the puzzle...
FOCUS.
"Close or narrow attention; concentration."
OK, this blog post is a little meandering, but I guess I'm thinking out loud to discover that to reach your dreams, you need a special combination of DEDICATION, PASSION, and FOCUS.
Does anybody have anything to add? What's your take on dedication? Do you think there is another piece? What are you dedicated to? Let's start a conversation, I'm curious to hear all your comments.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
What It's REALLY Like
Some people think being a groomer must be an amazingly fun job. "Wow!" they say, "You're a dog groomer? You must LOVE your job, right? I mean, you get to play with dogs all day!"
Um, no.
Not that I don't love my job, I do, but it is not all rainbows and unicorns. And rarely is there time for "playing."
So I've devised an imaginary schedule of a day that includes many of the crappy situations we deal with on a daily basis. Now, any typical day, you will deal with AT LEAST one or two of the things I will mention, just usually not everything every day (luckily!).
8:00 - Your first dog of the day is a regular, an Alaskan Malamute. She is a very good dog, which is good because she is also very big and very hairy. Luckily she hops into the tub without a problem and stands still for the bath, but she starts howling - and does not stop for the next two hours. This is where an iPod and hearing protector earmuffs come in handy.
After the bath, she hops willingly from the tub to the drying table. You are already soaking wet because she shakes constantly, and now you are about to get covered with the undercoat that is being blasted from the dog by the velocity dryer. This is the dog groomer version of being tarred and feathered. (Not thinking about it, you will later get strange looks at the grocery store after work as you are shedding throughout the store.)
Once she's dry, you need to brush her really well and cut her toenails. The brushing is fine, but if you aren't careful, she will donkey kick you in the face when you are cutting her toenails.
Ok, this one's all done, what's next?
10:00 - It's a 6-month-old Maltese puppy that has never been groomed before and is matted to the skin. First you must explain to the owners that the dog is matted and must be shaved, then you must spend the next 10 minutes explaining WHY you can't just "take a little off the top."
You finally get the OK from the owners to shave the puppy, and you decide to shave her before the bath because she is so matted that the velocity dryer won't help much, and she will probably be afraid of it anyway.
You hold the puppy up, turn on your clippers, then just hold her for a couple of minutes while she screams and frantically tries to dodge the clippers. Eventually she calms down a little bit, but not much, and shaving her takes forever because you have to get your blade under all the matting, and this is no easy matter when she won't hold still.
It takes almost 45 minutes to shave the puppy because she is SO matted and SO wiggly. She was scheduled for an hour and a half, and if you factor in the time it took to talk to the customers before you could even start grooming her, she's been here almost an hour already. You have half an hour before your next dog comes in and you haven't even washed this one yet.
She somewhat tolerates the bath, but when you start to blow dry her, she freaks out and starts screaming and pooping. You didn't react quickly enough and wound up splattering the wall with poop from the force of the dryer. While you turn off the dryer, the dog starts dancing a jig in her own poop, and now you have to wash her feet again. You secure her in the tub, clean her poop off the table, wall, and floor, then wash her feet and towel dry her again.
You have to get her dry somehow, so you switch down to the lowest speed on the dryer, and the dog is still terrified, but at least she doesn't poop again. Even though she is mostly naked from being shaved before the bath, it takes FOREVER to get her dry. You are glad you shaved her before the bath, because it would be nearly impossible to get all that matted hair dry at this rate.
When you finally finish drying the puppy, you only have 10 minutes before your next dog comes in. You probably won't be able to finish this dog in 10 minutes, so you will start (and possibly finish) your next dog late.
11:30 - Your next dog shows up, so you have to stop grooming the Maltese puppy to go speak to your next clients. This one is a rescued Shih Tzu that bites you every single time you groom him. Luckily there is a pen open you can put him in while you finish the puppy. It would be impossible to get him out of a kennel and difficult to pry out of a corner of the groom shop.
Ten minutes later you finish the puppy and call the owners. You know the shock of actually seeing their puppy naked will almost kill them, and you are not looking forward to their reactions when they come get the dog.
You go get the Shih Tzu out of the pen. Luckily you left the leash on him, because picking him up is the hardest part. You walk him from the pen to the groom shop and he is nervous, but ok. You bend over and speak to him in puppy talk and watch his body language. He rolls over for you to rub his belly, and you take this to be a good sign, that maybe he finally trusts you. After a minute of belly rubbing and baby talking, you move to pick him up -
AND HE BITES YOU.
Luckily his mouth is small enough and his teeth are dull enough that he didn't break the skin. Now, upset rather than injured, you still need to figure out how to pick up what has turned into a whirling mass of teeth and terror. You wind up lowering the table to its lowest height and yank the dog up onto the table by the leash, wishing you could at least support his butt but not wanting to get bit again.
He's OK for the bath, but when you turn on the dryer, he poops. This time you are prepared for it and manage not to splatter it anywhere. He stays out of it and you clean it up quickly and get back to drying him. You try to hold his head so you can dry it, but he is scratching the heck out of your arms with his front nails.
You finally get him dry and start on the haircut. He is OK for the haircut...
Except for his face, his neck, his legs, his tail, or standing up. So basically everything but shaving his back, he is trying to take chunks out of your hands.
Eventually you finish him and instead of deciding he looks good and you can stop, it's more of a mutual decision that he will not allow you to do any more. You look at his crooked ears and shaggy legs and know that the owners won't mind because they know he is naughty but you wish you could make him look better anyway.
Finally, it's time for lunch. You lost a few minutes when the Maltese puppy put you behind, but you are still glad to sit and relax for 20 minutes.
1:30 - Your next dog is a Standard Poodle. They show up 10 minutes late for their appointment. The bath and blow dry go just fine, but when you go to do the clean feet (shaved), he fights and pulls and you spend twenty minutes playing tug of war with all of his legs. Same thing with the clean face, he is tossing his head like he's Black Beauty or something. Other than this, his cut goes OK.
3:30 - Last dog of the day, finally! It's a cocker spaniel who gets shaved. Only problem is she is a nervous peer and leaves a urine trail from the front door of the store to the door of the groom shop that must be mopped up. You go to pick her up and apparently squeeze more urine out of her which lands on your arm and drips down to your hand. You put her in the tub and clean yourself up.
She cowers and shakes the entire bath and blow dry but at least does not pee or poop.
Sadly, she flat out refuses to stand up for any of the grooming, and she is rather overweight, so you're left holding up about 30 pounds with your left hand while shaving and whatnot with your right for her butt, underside and legs.
Her body gets shaved but her ears are left full, and they are matted. She screams and fights the entire time you brush them out.
When she is finally done, you put her in a pen so she doesn't pee all over the groom shop. When she goes home, you follow her to the door with the mop because she also pees when she is excited to go home.
OK, time to go home! But wait, now you have to clean. Remember that hairy Malamute? Yeah, that Malamute hair is still all over the tubs and floor and must be cleaned up. The tubs must also be cleaned, shampoo filled for the next day, vacuum, and disinfect your stuff.
5:30 - Finally on your way home, exhausted with an achy back and sore feet. Also, you smell like a sewer. Now you get to come back tomorrow and start all over again.
Other groomers, did I forget anything? I'm pretty sure I did, but at this point I'm glad I was able to wrangle this much out of my brain. I used up most of my brain cells at work.
Um, no.
Not that I don't love my job, I do, but it is not all rainbows and unicorns. And rarely is there time for "playing."
So I've devised an imaginary schedule of a day that includes many of the crappy situations we deal with on a daily basis. Now, any typical day, you will deal with AT LEAST one or two of the things I will mention, just usually not everything every day (luckily!).
8:00 - Your first dog of the day is a regular, an Alaskan Malamute. She is a very good dog, which is good because she is also very big and very hairy. Luckily she hops into the tub without a problem and stands still for the bath, but she starts howling - and does not stop for the next two hours. This is where an iPod and hearing protector earmuffs come in handy.
After the bath, she hops willingly from the tub to the drying table. You are already soaking wet because she shakes constantly, and now you are about to get covered with the undercoat that is being blasted from the dog by the velocity dryer. This is the dog groomer version of being tarred and feathered. (Not thinking about it, you will later get strange looks at the grocery store after work as you are shedding throughout the store.)
Once she's dry, you need to brush her really well and cut her toenails. The brushing is fine, but if you aren't careful, she will donkey kick you in the face when you are cutting her toenails.
Ok, this one's all done, what's next?
10:00 - It's a 6-month-old Maltese puppy that has never been groomed before and is matted to the skin. First you must explain to the owners that the dog is matted and must be shaved, then you must spend the next 10 minutes explaining WHY you can't just "take a little off the top."
You finally get the OK from the owners to shave the puppy, and you decide to shave her before the bath because she is so matted that the velocity dryer won't help much, and she will probably be afraid of it anyway.
You hold the puppy up, turn on your clippers, then just hold her for a couple of minutes while she screams and frantically tries to dodge the clippers. Eventually she calms down a little bit, but not much, and shaving her takes forever because you have to get your blade under all the matting, and this is no easy matter when she won't hold still.
It takes almost 45 minutes to shave the puppy because she is SO matted and SO wiggly. She was scheduled for an hour and a half, and if you factor in the time it took to talk to the customers before you could even start grooming her, she's been here almost an hour already. You have half an hour before your next dog comes in and you haven't even washed this one yet.
She somewhat tolerates the bath, but when you start to blow dry her, she freaks out and starts screaming and pooping. You didn't react quickly enough and wound up splattering the wall with poop from the force of the dryer. While you turn off the dryer, the dog starts dancing a jig in her own poop, and now you have to wash her feet again. You secure her in the tub, clean her poop off the table, wall, and floor, then wash her feet and towel dry her again.
You have to get her dry somehow, so you switch down to the lowest speed on the dryer, and the dog is still terrified, but at least she doesn't poop again. Even though she is mostly naked from being shaved before the bath, it takes FOREVER to get her dry. You are glad you shaved her before the bath, because it would be nearly impossible to get all that matted hair dry at this rate.
When you finally finish drying the puppy, you only have 10 minutes before your next dog comes in. You probably won't be able to finish this dog in 10 minutes, so you will start (and possibly finish) your next dog late.
11:30 - Your next dog shows up, so you have to stop grooming the Maltese puppy to go speak to your next clients. This one is a rescued Shih Tzu that bites you every single time you groom him. Luckily there is a pen open you can put him in while you finish the puppy. It would be impossible to get him out of a kennel and difficult to pry out of a corner of the groom shop.
Ten minutes later you finish the puppy and call the owners. You know the shock of actually seeing their puppy naked will almost kill them, and you are not looking forward to their reactions when they come get the dog.
You go get the Shih Tzu out of the pen. Luckily you left the leash on him, because picking him up is the hardest part. You walk him from the pen to the groom shop and he is nervous, but ok. You bend over and speak to him in puppy talk and watch his body language. He rolls over for you to rub his belly, and you take this to be a good sign, that maybe he finally trusts you. After a minute of belly rubbing and baby talking, you move to pick him up -
AND HE BITES YOU.
Luckily his mouth is small enough and his teeth are dull enough that he didn't break the skin. Now, upset rather than injured, you still need to figure out how to pick up what has turned into a whirling mass of teeth and terror. You wind up lowering the table to its lowest height and yank the dog up onto the table by the leash, wishing you could at least support his butt but not wanting to get bit again.
He's OK for the bath, but when you turn on the dryer, he poops. This time you are prepared for it and manage not to splatter it anywhere. He stays out of it and you clean it up quickly and get back to drying him. You try to hold his head so you can dry it, but he is scratching the heck out of your arms with his front nails.
You finally get him dry and start on the haircut. He is OK for the haircut...
Except for his face, his neck, his legs, his tail, or standing up. So basically everything but shaving his back, he is trying to take chunks out of your hands.
Eventually you finish him and instead of deciding he looks good and you can stop, it's more of a mutual decision that he will not allow you to do any more. You look at his crooked ears and shaggy legs and know that the owners won't mind because they know he is naughty but you wish you could make him look better anyway.
Finally, it's time for lunch. You lost a few minutes when the Maltese puppy put you behind, but you are still glad to sit and relax for 20 minutes.
1:30 - Your next dog is a Standard Poodle. They show up 10 minutes late for their appointment. The bath and blow dry go just fine, but when you go to do the clean feet (shaved), he fights and pulls and you spend twenty minutes playing tug of war with all of his legs. Same thing with the clean face, he is tossing his head like he's Black Beauty or something. Other than this, his cut goes OK.
3:30 - Last dog of the day, finally! It's a cocker spaniel who gets shaved. Only problem is she is a nervous peer and leaves a urine trail from the front door of the store to the door of the groom shop that must be mopped up. You go to pick her up and apparently squeeze more urine out of her which lands on your arm and drips down to your hand. You put her in the tub and clean yourself up.
She cowers and shakes the entire bath and blow dry but at least does not pee or poop.
Sadly, she flat out refuses to stand up for any of the grooming, and she is rather overweight, so you're left holding up about 30 pounds with your left hand while shaving and whatnot with your right for her butt, underside and legs.
Her body gets shaved but her ears are left full, and they are matted. She screams and fights the entire time you brush them out.
When she is finally done, you put her in a pen so she doesn't pee all over the groom shop. When she goes home, you follow her to the door with the mop because she also pees when she is excited to go home.
OK, time to go home! But wait, now you have to clean. Remember that hairy Malamute? Yeah, that Malamute hair is still all over the tubs and floor and must be cleaned up. The tubs must also be cleaned, shampoo filled for the next day, vacuum, and disinfect your stuff.
5:30 - Finally on your way home, exhausted with an achy back and sore feet. Also, you smell like a sewer. Now you get to come back tomorrow and start all over again.
Other groomers, did I forget anything? I'm pretty sure I did, but at this point I'm glad I was able to wrangle this much out of my brain. I used up most of my brain cells at work.
Dog Names
Well, it looks like my first dog isn't going to show up, so I guess I'll take this time to write a blog post.
When I was in the shower this morning, I was thinking about my schedule for today, and it occurred to me to talk about dog names and wonder how people name their dogs.
Hailey came with her name, and I liked it, so I kept it. Dillin came with the name Snowball, which I HATED. Dexter came with his name too, and so did the pets I had before him, so I wasn't sure how to come up with a good name. I asked my coworkers for help. One of my coworkers watches the TV show "Modern Family," and I do, too. A character on the show named Haley had a boyfriend named Dylan, so my coworker suggested that. I decided to change the spelling to reflect the fact that in Hindi, "dil" is "heart" and "dilli" is of or from the heart (or something like that). Anyway, that's how I got to Dillin.
What led me to think about dog names was that I have a wheaten named Murphy at the end of my day today. I don't know about the rest of the country, but around here, the vast majority of wheatens seem to be named either Murphy or Bailey, and the majority of Murphys seem to be wheatens. I have no idea why that is, but all groomers I know have also noticed this trend, so I know I'm not making it up.
Also, in groomer lore, a dog named Angel, Sugar, or Sweetie Pie will probably be vicious, while Harleys and Bruisers tend to be very good dogs to groom. Although, when I think about it, the percentage of naughty Anglels probably isn't any higher than the percentage of other dog names that are vicious; we as groomers just to tend to remember the naughty ones and forget about the good ones.
So let's start a discussion: how did you name your dog(s)? I'm curious.
When I was in the shower this morning, I was thinking about my schedule for today, and it occurred to me to talk about dog names and wonder how people name their dogs.
Hailey came with her name, and I liked it, so I kept it. Dillin came with the name Snowball, which I HATED. Dexter came with his name too, and so did the pets I had before him, so I wasn't sure how to come up with a good name. I asked my coworkers for help. One of my coworkers watches the TV show "Modern Family," and I do, too. A character on the show named Haley had a boyfriend named Dylan, so my coworker suggested that. I decided to change the spelling to reflect the fact that in Hindi, "dil" is "heart" and "dilli" is of or from the heart (or something like that). Anyway, that's how I got to Dillin.
What led me to think about dog names was that I have a wheaten named Murphy at the end of my day today. I don't know about the rest of the country, but around here, the vast majority of wheatens seem to be named either Murphy or Bailey, and the majority of Murphys seem to be wheatens. I have no idea why that is, but all groomers I know have also noticed this trend, so I know I'm not making it up.
Also, in groomer lore, a dog named Angel, Sugar, or Sweetie Pie will probably be vicious, while Harleys and Bruisers tend to be very good dogs to groom. Although, when I think about it, the percentage of naughty Anglels probably isn't any higher than the percentage of other dog names that are vicious; we as groomers just to tend to remember the naughty ones and forget about the good ones.
So let's start a discussion: how did you name your dog(s)? I'm curious.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Tragedy and Life
After a tragedy such as what our country has experienced today in Aurora, Colorado, what else could I talk about?
It doesn't make any sense that something as harmless as going to see a movie could take your life. The most dangerous thing about going to see a movie should be the drive there and back, not the movie itself.
It is terrifying to realize that our lives could end at any moment for any reason - or no reason at all.
But instead of being afraid, we need to embrace that realization. Don't life your life in fear of death -
EMBRACE IT.
Let me explain.
We all procrastinate to some degree or another. I'll start that diet next week, I'll quit this job next month, next year maybe I'll settle down and get married. Here's the thing...
We may not get next year, next month, next week, or even tomorrow.
So don't wait. Don't procrastinate. Whatever you want from life -
GO GET IT.
Just do it. I don't know about you, but I don't want my final moments to be thinking about shoulda, coulda, woulda.
So I am going to figure out exactly what I do want from life and go get it! I don't want any regrets at the end of my life.
Also, I've realized or remembered just how important it is to always...let me emphasize this...
ALWAYS TELL YOUR LOVED ONES HOW MUCH YOU CARE!
You may never get another chance.
I also recommend more hugs than usual.
Remember, we only get one life, or even if you believe in reincarnation - LIVE THIS ONE TO THE BEST.
All my love to those of you who take time from your day to read my blog.
It doesn't make any sense that something as harmless as going to see a movie could take your life. The most dangerous thing about going to see a movie should be the drive there and back, not the movie itself.
It is terrifying to realize that our lives could end at any moment for any reason - or no reason at all.
But instead of being afraid, we need to embrace that realization. Don't life your life in fear of death -
EMBRACE IT.
Let me explain.
We all procrastinate to some degree or another. I'll start that diet next week, I'll quit this job next month, next year maybe I'll settle down and get married. Here's the thing...
We may not get next year, next month, next week, or even tomorrow.
So don't wait. Don't procrastinate. Whatever you want from life -
GO GET IT.
Just do it. I don't know about you, but I don't want my final moments to be thinking about shoulda, coulda, woulda.
So I am going to figure out exactly what I do want from life and go get it! I don't want any regrets at the end of my life.
Also, I've realized or remembered just how important it is to always...let me emphasize this...
ALWAYS TELL YOUR LOVED ONES HOW MUCH YOU CARE!
You may never get another chance.
I also recommend more hugs than usual.
Remember, we only get one life, or even if you believe in reincarnation - LIVE THIS ONE TO THE BEST.
All my love to those of you who take time from your day to read my blog.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Spa Day for the Pups
So I finally brought the pups in and groomed them today. This is the longest I've ever gone in between grooms, about six weeks. I rarely bring them with me to work anymore because they get too overwhelmed, so that means I have to come in on my day off to groom them. A half hour drive each direction and three hours of work once I get there...I've just been lazy.
Anyway, here are Dillin's before pics.
Here are Hailey's before pics.
This is Dillin washed, dried, and brushed but no haircut yet.
Here's Dillin after, looking a little more manly.
Here's how I eventually wound up with this cut on his head: I never liked long poofy ears and I didn't want to brush them, so I've kept his ears short since I got him. When he first joined my family, he had REALLY bad tears stains. Going from a teddy bear head to the mustache was an attempt to get rid of his tear stains. I still couldn't get rid of them entirely, but it helped.
Even after changing his food several times, I still couldn't get rid of them. So even though it's a little expensive, I tried Angels' Eyes, and it worked like a miracle! Within a couple weeks, the tear stains were gone, and even though I stopped using the Angels' Eyes, they still haven't come back.
Anyway, I thought it would be strange to have a large topknot with a mustache since he is a cockapoo and not pure poodle. I tried a mohawk for a while, but I couldn't get it straight, partly because he is really fussy about having his face handled and partly because his hair is too wavy. Anyway, that is how I finally came to settle on his current look.
Here's Hailey, clean and brushed, no haircut yet.
Here she is all done. I hate taking her this short (1/2 an inch) but she just gets dreadfully hot otherwise.
Can we go home now please?
Luckily they both do fairly well with grooming. Dillin is perfect for the bath and very good for the dryer except for his face, and he's even doing better for that. Hailey HATES the bath and tries to run away. When I finally catch her and get her in the tub, she doesn't try to escape, just stands there shaking and miserable. She isn't much of a fan of the blow dryer, either. She makes up for it by being very good for the whole haircut. She LOVES to be brushed. She doesn't like to stand, which can be irritating, but that's ok. Dillin is a little fussy for his feet and head, but otherwise he also does well for the haircut.
Well, I hope you've enjoyed these pictures, I'll keep them coming if you like them.
Friendship
I've had cause over the last few days and weeks to ponder the meaning and responsibilities of friendship.
I seem to fluctuate between being a great friend and a terrible friend; or maybe I am such a great friend that it becomes too much for me and causes me to be a terrible friend in return.
You see, I'm a great listener. Most of the time I prefer to listen (which is maybe why I feel I need a blog to actually speak and be heard), and people love that about me. And I like that people feel safe enough that they can tell me everything.
But sometimes it can be too much.
I don't think I've mentioned this on my blog yet, but I'm bipolar. I'm feeling pretty good right now, but when I'm manic or, more so, when I am depressed, my own troubles are so overwhelming that it can be difficult to deal with everybody else's troubles, as well. Every once in a while, I have a friend who takes all my energy and time, and eventually all the taking just sucks me dry until I can't take it any more.
I have a friend who lives in another country. Or had, anyway. He originally contacted me to help him improve his English. Not knowing what all this would entail, I said ok.
First we would just talk once or twice a week on my days off. There is a very large time difference between us, so it can be hard to coordinate times. At first, I was shy, as I am with all new people, so he mostly spoke and asked me questions.
Then we started talking longer, and I had to put more effort into really listening and giving him feedback on his grammar. But this wasn't enough, and soon I had to take notes during our conversations and send him a voice mail later with all his corrections. This started to feel like a job. Then we really went into testing mode, and suddenly I had to start researching speech topics to prepare him for an exam.
All the while, we did become friends. He trusted me with his deepest, darkest secrets that he couldn't trust with anybody else. And he let me speak about myself also, and he wanted to learn all about me, but it was so difficult to explain some parts of myself, not just due to the fact I would use words he didn't understand, but sometimes cultural differences got in the way, as well. Like, try explaining Bipolar Disorder to somebody who comes from a country that doesn't really acknowledge the existence of mental illness. Life is tough, and you deal with it, period. So there were many things I had trouble discussing, which led to this friendship being rather one-sided. Mostly, he would talk, and I would listen.
Anyway, now that I am back into my writing and I am spending most of my free time managing this blog and its associated Facebook page and also working on my other writing, it has begun to feel like a chore to talk to my "friend" on my days off.
And he started contacting me more and more, sending me messages when I was at work or in bed.
Then last week he called me an angel.
Crap.
I'm not an angel. Lately, every time we talk, I'm staring at the clock wondering how long I need to sit here taking notes on my friend's life and grammar and when I can get back to my writing.
He deserves a better friend than me.
So last night I sent him an email saying that everything had become too much; I would be willing to talk with him briefly once or twice a week, but no more hour to an hour and a half long conversations on Skype while taking notes and sending voice mails and researching speech topics. Come to think of it, I guess I am having a hard time with the helping with English part more than the friendship part.
In any case, he wrote back apologized for taking so much of my time and begged me to still be his friend.
I feel like such a terrible person.
And this is not the first time I have "broken up" with a friend because they took far more out of my life than they gave in return, so now I am having deja vu and feeling even worse about myself.
I know that I am doing what I need to do for myself, which sounds selfish, but it takes SO little to send me into a depressive episode that is likely to last for several months. I HATE being depressed, and I am working very hard at managing my bipolar in a way that I can avoid depressive and manic swings as much as possible.
So sometimes this means firing my friends.
Friends are supposed to be there for each other through all their ups and down, but sometimes friendships get lopsided and there is far too much give and not enough take. My friends should be able to help me through my depressive episodes, not cause them.
Anyway, all of this is probably why I don't have very many friends. I'm a natural listener and I'm very shy, so I set myself up for failure by sucking up all of my friends' bad energy and not feeling comfortable enough to burden them with mine, and in the end I wind up resenting both myself and them.
All comments are welcome on this topic, I'd love to start a conversation about what friendship means to you.
I seem to fluctuate between being a great friend and a terrible friend; or maybe I am such a great friend that it becomes too much for me and causes me to be a terrible friend in return.
You see, I'm a great listener. Most of the time I prefer to listen (which is maybe why I feel I need a blog to actually speak and be heard), and people love that about me. And I like that people feel safe enough that they can tell me everything.
But sometimes it can be too much.
I don't think I've mentioned this on my blog yet, but I'm bipolar. I'm feeling pretty good right now, but when I'm manic or, more so, when I am depressed, my own troubles are so overwhelming that it can be difficult to deal with everybody else's troubles, as well. Every once in a while, I have a friend who takes all my energy and time, and eventually all the taking just sucks me dry until I can't take it any more.
I have a friend who lives in another country. Or had, anyway. He originally contacted me to help him improve his English. Not knowing what all this would entail, I said ok.
First we would just talk once or twice a week on my days off. There is a very large time difference between us, so it can be hard to coordinate times. At first, I was shy, as I am with all new people, so he mostly spoke and asked me questions.
Then we started talking longer, and I had to put more effort into really listening and giving him feedback on his grammar. But this wasn't enough, and soon I had to take notes during our conversations and send him a voice mail later with all his corrections. This started to feel like a job. Then we really went into testing mode, and suddenly I had to start researching speech topics to prepare him for an exam.
All the while, we did become friends. He trusted me with his deepest, darkest secrets that he couldn't trust with anybody else. And he let me speak about myself also, and he wanted to learn all about me, but it was so difficult to explain some parts of myself, not just due to the fact I would use words he didn't understand, but sometimes cultural differences got in the way, as well. Like, try explaining Bipolar Disorder to somebody who comes from a country that doesn't really acknowledge the existence of mental illness. Life is tough, and you deal with it, period. So there were many things I had trouble discussing, which led to this friendship being rather one-sided. Mostly, he would talk, and I would listen.
Anyway, now that I am back into my writing and I am spending most of my free time managing this blog and its associated Facebook page and also working on my other writing, it has begun to feel like a chore to talk to my "friend" on my days off.
And he started contacting me more and more, sending me messages when I was at work or in bed.
Then last week he called me an angel.
Crap.
I'm not an angel. Lately, every time we talk, I'm staring at the clock wondering how long I need to sit here taking notes on my friend's life and grammar and when I can get back to my writing.
He deserves a better friend than me.
So last night I sent him an email saying that everything had become too much; I would be willing to talk with him briefly once or twice a week, but no more hour to an hour and a half long conversations on Skype while taking notes and sending voice mails and researching speech topics. Come to think of it, I guess I am having a hard time with the helping with English part more than the friendship part.
In any case, he wrote back apologized for taking so much of my time and begged me to still be his friend.
I feel like such a terrible person.
And this is not the first time I have "broken up" with a friend because they took far more out of my life than they gave in return, so now I am having deja vu and feeling even worse about myself.
I know that I am doing what I need to do for myself, which sounds selfish, but it takes SO little to send me into a depressive episode that is likely to last for several months. I HATE being depressed, and I am working very hard at managing my bipolar in a way that I can avoid depressive and manic swings as much as possible.
So sometimes this means firing my friends.
Friends are supposed to be there for each other through all their ups and down, but sometimes friendships get lopsided and there is far too much give and not enough take. My friends should be able to help me through my depressive episodes, not cause them.
Anyway, all of this is probably why I don't have very many friends. I'm a natural listener and I'm very shy, so I set myself up for failure by sucking up all of my friends' bad energy and not feeling comfortable enough to burden them with mine, and in the end I wind up resenting both myself and them.
All comments are welcome on this topic, I'd love to start a conversation about what friendship means to you.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Novel Novel Idea
So I got another great idea for another novel today - a fictionalized memoir about Dexter, from his POV! 1800 words in, I'm sure I've got a winning idea, so that's pretty exciting. I've been focusing all my time and energy on my blog and Facebook page the last two or three weeks and I haven't done much other writing lately, so it feels good to get back into it. I have so many writing projects going on right now that it's a little crazy, but hopefully I can get moving on one or more of those projects. I'm really loving the Dexter piece right now, so hopefully I can keep some momentum up on that one.
This is Dexter when he was about three. I had had him just over a year when this pic was taken.
Here is a small excerpt from what I wrote this afternoon. Input always welcome! I love it so much I have to share, but I am always open to critique.
"My first two months of life were okay. We were outside all the time, and sometimes it was really hot, and sometimes it was wet and cold, but I was always with my mom and siblings, so it was all right.
As I got older, I got more adventurous and wandered further and further away from Mom. One day when I was about six weeks old, I made it all the way to the farthest corner of the yard all by myself.
And that’s when I discovered the greatest treasure of all. I found a dirt-covered tennis ball wedged under the wooden fence that surrounded our yard. It took a while, but I was able to pry the ball out from under the fence with my big front feet, and I had my own personal treasure! A couple of my siblings tried to take it away from me, but I could run faster than they could.
Day and night, I kept an eye on that tennis ball. I had no idea then why it was so special, but I knew that it was my destiny and I refused to let it go. How could I have known it would be only the first of so many things I would lose?"
Well, I'm tired, so that's it for tonight's blog post. I'll talk to you all later!
This is Dexter when he was about three. I had had him just over a year when this pic was taken.
Here is a small excerpt from what I wrote this afternoon. Input always welcome! I love it so much I have to share, but I am always open to critique.
"My first two months of life were okay. We were outside all the time, and sometimes it was really hot, and sometimes it was wet and cold, but I was always with my mom and siblings, so it was all right.
As I got older, I got more adventurous and wandered further and further away from Mom. One day when I was about six weeks old, I made it all the way to the farthest corner of the yard all by myself.
And that’s when I discovered the greatest treasure of all. I found a dirt-covered tennis ball wedged under the wooden fence that surrounded our yard. It took a while, but I was able to pry the ball out from under the fence with my big front feet, and I had my own personal treasure! A couple of my siblings tried to take it away from me, but I could run faster than they could.
Day and night, I kept an eye on that tennis ball. I had no idea then why it was so special, but I knew that it was my destiny and I refused to let it go. How could I have known it would be only the first of so many things I would lose?"
Well, I'm tired, so that's it for tonight's blog post. I'll talk to you all later!
More Maintenance Frustration
If you aren't current on the Saga of the Leak, read here first: Maintenance Man.
So it's been two or three weeks since I've seen a maintenance person in here (ironically, one appeared halfway through this sentence). I've been frustrated enough having to deal with the crap in my dining room, the hole in my ceiling, the incessant drip drip drip 24 hours a day, and emptying out the 5 gallon bucket every 4 days or so.
So you can imagine how irate I was an hour and a half ago when I was sitting here at my computer and realized the drip drip drip sounded different. I discovered a new hole in the old pan in the ceiling, this one not leaking into a bucket in the closet but right in the middle of the hallway connecting my bedroom and my bathroom.
I was planning on calling them today anyway to see if the parts they were supposed to order last Tuesday are in yet.
This is getting ridiculous.
The manager was "in a meeting," so I was told he would call me when he got done, but the girl on the phone had no idea what time that would be.
Great.
So I'm sitting here, steaming mad (after taking a video of the new leak) and starting this blog post when a maintenance guy knocks on my door. I haven't seen him before, but by all means, please come in and help me!
He came in and looked at everything and said that my entire system needed to be replaced (which I was told a week or two ago) and the parts would be in in two weeks. Apparently my system is so old they don't make the parts anymore, so they had to be special ordered or something.
I asked if there was at least a temporary fix to (at a BARE MINIMUM) patch up the leak in the hallway in the meantime. He said yes, told me he had to make a call and get some supplies, and left for about 10 minutes.
When he came back, he had a roll of what at first looked like a giant roll of duct tape but actually turned out to be a strange combination of fruit by the foot and industrial strength silly putty.
So he patched up all the leaks, and I'm REALLY hoping the patches will last. It is SO nice not to hear that dripping anymore.
Anyway, after they do get the parts, it will take one day to replace the whole thing, one day to replace the drywall, and one day to clean the carpet in the closet, hallway, and dining room where they stashed all their crap.
Hopefully within three weeks, this whole closet leak disaster will finally be over. I bet I still won't have a proper thermostat, but that seems like small potatoes compared to this.
***
And while I'm attempting to load the video I took, I discover that plugging the two original leaks has now created a new leak. Oy.
So it's been two or three weeks since I've seen a maintenance person in here (ironically, one appeared halfway through this sentence). I've been frustrated enough having to deal with the crap in my dining room, the hole in my ceiling, the incessant drip drip drip 24 hours a day, and emptying out the 5 gallon bucket every 4 days or so.
So you can imagine how irate I was an hour and a half ago when I was sitting here at my computer and realized the drip drip drip sounded different. I discovered a new hole in the old pan in the ceiling, this one not leaking into a bucket in the closet but right in the middle of the hallway connecting my bedroom and my bathroom.
I was planning on calling them today anyway to see if the parts they were supposed to order last Tuesday are in yet.
This is getting ridiculous.
The manager was "in a meeting," so I was told he would call me when he got done, but the girl on the phone had no idea what time that would be.
Great.
So I'm sitting here, steaming mad (after taking a video of the new leak) and starting this blog post when a maintenance guy knocks on my door. I haven't seen him before, but by all means, please come in and help me!
He came in and looked at everything and said that my entire system needed to be replaced (which I was told a week or two ago) and the parts would be in in two weeks. Apparently my system is so old they don't make the parts anymore, so they had to be special ordered or something.
I asked if there was at least a temporary fix to (at a BARE MINIMUM) patch up the leak in the hallway in the meantime. He said yes, told me he had to make a call and get some supplies, and left for about 10 minutes.
When he came back, he had a roll of what at first looked like a giant roll of duct tape but actually turned out to be a strange combination of fruit by the foot and industrial strength silly putty.
So he patched up all the leaks, and I'm REALLY hoping the patches will last. It is SO nice not to hear that dripping anymore.
Anyway, after they do get the parts, it will take one day to replace the whole thing, one day to replace the drywall, and one day to clean the carpet in the closet, hallway, and dining room where they stashed all their crap.
Hopefully within three weeks, this whole closet leak disaster will finally be over. I bet I still won't have a proper thermostat, but that seems like small potatoes compared to this.
***
And while I'm attempting to load the video I took, I discover that plugging the two original leaks has now created a new leak. Oy.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Wake Up Call
So, having won a writing contest recently with no cash prize, tonight I decided to look into other writing contests that do have cash prizes.
A couple of bummers.
You have to pay to submit your writing to the contests; from what I've seen so far, it looks like $10-22 per submission. Which would be fine if I weren't so broke. Guess I'm not so much surprised as disappointed.
Also, most of these places want work that is unpublished, to which I said Duh, until I discovered that includes blogs. Well crap. I've put some good stuff on here already, and now I can't use it. Also, that means I will be less inclined to put my writing on here, knowing that will exclude it from other things. But part of the reason I started this blog is to share my writing with you all.
These are not crises, just a wake-up call. I'm slowly climbing into the professional writer swimming pool. Maybe it's for the best I don't dive in whole-heartedly? I'm still trying to figure all of this out and get into the writing habit again.
So I'm sort of bummed.
Anyway, I will try to put up one or two better blog posts tomorrow, this one is a little boring, and very short; I apologize.
And, 20 minutes after I originally posted this, I realized...
THIS IS PRACTICALLY THE SAME THING AS GAMBLING.
Crap.
A couple of bummers.
You have to pay to submit your writing to the contests; from what I've seen so far, it looks like $10-22 per submission. Which would be fine if I weren't so broke. Guess I'm not so much surprised as disappointed.
Also, most of these places want work that is unpublished, to which I said Duh, until I discovered that includes blogs. Well crap. I've put some good stuff on here already, and now I can't use it. Also, that means I will be less inclined to put my writing on here, knowing that will exclude it from other things. But part of the reason I started this blog is to share my writing with you all.
These are not crises, just a wake-up call. I'm slowly climbing into the professional writer swimming pool. Maybe it's for the best I don't dive in whole-heartedly? I'm still trying to figure all of this out and get into the writing habit again.
So I'm sort of bummed.
Anyway, I will try to put up one or two better blog posts tomorrow, this one is a little boring, and very short; I apologize.
And, 20 minutes after I originally posted this, I realized...
THIS IS PRACTICALLY THE SAME THING AS GAMBLING.
Crap.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Interesting Day
Today was such an interesting day, and not necessarily in a good way.
First, the other groomer who works with me on Sundays was late. VERY late. So here's how my morning went:
We start grooming at 9 on Sundays, but the actual store doesn't open until 10, so the groomers are the only employees there that early. The first dog came in a couple minutes early. It was the other groomer's (I'll call her Jane, but that isn't her real name). So I asked if she wanted to wait for Jane or if she wanted me to go ahead and take her dog back, and she said she'd wait. She had a little tiny terrier mix, and my standard poodle and very large labradoodle pulled into the parking lot as she was walking in. So I ushered her to one side of the store, knowing how rambunctious the big ones are.
So I got my two put away, then came up to talk to Jane's customer again. Do you still want to wait? It was several minutes after 9 by now, with no sign of Jane. Yes, I'll still wait, she said.
So I put my labradoodle on the table and started plucking his ears (side note: this dog has easily the hairiest ears I have seen in my entire grooming career) and texting Jane.
9:03 - Your dog is here, are you close?
9:08 - Your customer is standing around waiting for you
9:15 - Irritated voice mail
9:20 - Tell customer I can't get hold of Jane and ask if she would like to keep waiting or reschedule.
9:22 - Ok, I rescheduled your dog.
Even though I do not own, run, or manage this store or groom shop, I'm angry as all get out that I had to reschedule a customer. This is not the first time Jane has been late. It probably won't be the last, either. A good, regular customer just spent more than 20 minutes standing around waiting for their dog to get groomed, just to be told they were out of luck! That's just wrong. Not to mention all the time I had to spend texting and calling Jane and dealing with her customer; that's time I should've been working on my own dogs. So now I was behind through no fault of me or my customer.
Great.
So I'm already very upset when I get this:
9:27 - (paraphrase) I'm so sorry!
9:28 - Did you just wake up?
9:29 - Ya I totally slept through alarm
9:32 - What time is my next one coming in
9:34 - 10:30 I think
...
9:39 - Are u sure my lunch wasn't after my first dog
9:41 - I did not respond well to her asking me to go double check her schedule when I was already behind because of her. I will leave out the details of this text, but it was not pretty.
Later, she did apologize and sounded sincere about it. She swears it won't happen again, but she's 21 and seems to use her age as an excuse to do whatever she wants.
Anyway, in large part due to dealing with Jane's lateness, I had to groom through my lunch to finish the poodle and doodle.
My next dog was due in at 2. I had just enough time to chug a Slimfast shake between finishing the poodle and doodle and my 2 o'clock appointment.
Or so I thought.
2:15 - I finally call my 2:00. Oh my God, it's 2! (Actually it's 2:15) Can you still do her today? If you can get here before 2:30, I can still finish her before we close at 4.
2:35 - Customer finally comes in. And the dog is matted. I think it will blow out with the dryer, and it is hard to say how much matting there is because of the way I am holding her.
4:05 - I managed to get a long blade under the mats so I don't need to shave her bald. Hand her over to the customer who again apologizes for being late.
Luckily I have no plans, because I usually finish my dogs 10-15 minutes early, then clean and still leave close to 4. Today I didn't even start cleaning until after four.
Anyway, come home, take the dogs out. Both dogs were having a little bit of diarrhea a couple days ago and hadn't done much of anything yesterday or this morning. Hailey had a normal poop; Dillin had some normal, some in between, and then some straight up diarrhea.
Came inside, sat down at my computer, got on Facebook. I look over, Dillin is sitting very oddly against the patio door curtains. As I'm looking at him, he gets up, walks a few feet into the living room, and starts to spin. I shout NOOOO but it's too late...
He had bloody diarrhea all over my living room.
And then he knew I was mad at him for pooping in the living room, so he cowered and ran into the dining room.
Where he had more bloody diarrhea.
I really don't have the money to take him to the vet right now, so that caused a mini meltdown. Anyway, I decided to give him a day or two and see how he does. He tends to eat strange things when I'm not looking, so maybe something is having a hard time passing, but will come out soon.
So, tomorrow I have all small dogs, which is AWESOME! That hardly ever happens, I have way too many poodle, doodle, and golden requests. The only thing is...
One of those small dogs bites me every time she comes in.
She's really sweet, but she's a rescue, and STILL terrified of me. I have hope that someday she will remember that I do not beat her when I see her. And luckily her mouth is too small and her teeth are too dull to do any damage. But still. Nobody likes to get bit. So when you ask if I get bit doing my job...
YES. Yes I do. At least every six weeks when this dog comes in, and sometimes in between.
First, the other groomer who works with me on Sundays was late. VERY late. So here's how my morning went:
We start grooming at 9 on Sundays, but the actual store doesn't open until 10, so the groomers are the only employees there that early. The first dog came in a couple minutes early. It was the other groomer's (I'll call her Jane, but that isn't her real name). So I asked if she wanted to wait for Jane or if she wanted me to go ahead and take her dog back, and she said she'd wait. She had a little tiny terrier mix, and my standard poodle and very large labradoodle pulled into the parking lot as she was walking in. So I ushered her to one side of the store, knowing how rambunctious the big ones are.
So I got my two put away, then came up to talk to Jane's customer again. Do you still want to wait? It was several minutes after 9 by now, with no sign of Jane. Yes, I'll still wait, she said.
So I put my labradoodle on the table and started plucking his ears (side note: this dog has easily the hairiest ears I have seen in my entire grooming career) and texting Jane.
9:03 - Your dog is here, are you close?
9:08 - Your customer is standing around waiting for you
9:15 - Irritated voice mail
9:20 - Tell customer I can't get hold of Jane and ask if she would like to keep waiting or reschedule.
9:22 - Ok, I rescheduled your dog.
Even though I do not own, run, or manage this store or groom shop, I'm angry as all get out that I had to reschedule a customer. This is not the first time Jane has been late. It probably won't be the last, either. A good, regular customer just spent more than 20 minutes standing around waiting for their dog to get groomed, just to be told they were out of luck! That's just wrong. Not to mention all the time I had to spend texting and calling Jane and dealing with her customer; that's time I should've been working on my own dogs. So now I was behind through no fault of me or my customer.
Great.
So I'm already very upset when I get this:
9:27 - (paraphrase) I'm so sorry!
9:28 - Did you just wake up?
9:29 - Ya I totally slept through alarm
9:32 - What time is my next one coming in
9:34 - 10:30 I think
...
9:39 - Are u sure my lunch wasn't after my first dog
9:41 - I did not respond well to her asking me to go double check her schedule when I was already behind because of her. I will leave out the details of this text, but it was not pretty.
Later, she did apologize and sounded sincere about it. She swears it won't happen again, but she's 21 and seems to use her age as an excuse to do whatever she wants.
Anyway, in large part due to dealing with Jane's lateness, I had to groom through my lunch to finish the poodle and doodle.
My next dog was due in at 2. I had just enough time to chug a Slimfast shake between finishing the poodle and doodle and my 2 o'clock appointment.
Or so I thought.
2:15 - I finally call my 2:00. Oh my God, it's 2! (Actually it's 2:15) Can you still do her today? If you can get here before 2:30, I can still finish her before we close at 4.
2:35 - Customer finally comes in. And the dog is matted. I think it will blow out with the dryer, and it is hard to say how much matting there is because of the way I am holding her.
4:05 - I managed to get a long blade under the mats so I don't need to shave her bald. Hand her over to the customer who again apologizes for being late.
Luckily I have no plans, because I usually finish my dogs 10-15 minutes early, then clean and still leave close to 4. Today I didn't even start cleaning until after four.
Anyway, come home, take the dogs out. Both dogs were having a little bit of diarrhea a couple days ago and hadn't done much of anything yesterday or this morning. Hailey had a normal poop; Dillin had some normal, some in between, and then some straight up diarrhea.
Came inside, sat down at my computer, got on Facebook. I look over, Dillin is sitting very oddly against the patio door curtains. As I'm looking at him, he gets up, walks a few feet into the living room, and starts to spin. I shout NOOOO but it's too late...
He had bloody diarrhea all over my living room.
And then he knew I was mad at him for pooping in the living room, so he cowered and ran into the dining room.
Where he had more bloody diarrhea.
I really don't have the money to take him to the vet right now, so that caused a mini meltdown. Anyway, I decided to give him a day or two and see how he does. He tends to eat strange things when I'm not looking, so maybe something is having a hard time passing, but will come out soon.
So, tomorrow I have all small dogs, which is AWESOME! That hardly ever happens, I have way too many poodle, doodle, and golden requests. The only thing is...
One of those small dogs bites me every time she comes in.
She's really sweet, but she's a rescue, and STILL terrified of me. I have hope that someday she will remember that I do not beat her when I see her. And luckily her mouth is too small and her teeth are too dull to do any damage. But still. Nobody likes to get bit. So when you ask if I get bit doing my job...
YES. Yes I do. At least every six weeks when this dog comes in, and sometimes in between.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Validation
Validation. We all seek it in our lives. We want to know that what we think, believe, or hope for are good, right, possible. And when you get that validation...life is that much sweeter.
If you follow my Facebook page, you may already know that I just won a contest with Dexter, a post I wrote a couple weeks ago. There was no cash prize, but getting first place out of 67 entries is very validating and rewarding. It says to me that I am on the right path, that perhaps I am good enough to make money with my writing someday. It's one thing for my friends and family to say they like my writing; it's quite another for those of you who read my blog and whoever judged that contest to say so.
The reality is, nobody should really need or seek outer validation; we should be able to validate ourselves. But why is that so hard? Are we afraid we're just being egotistical? Are we afraid of being wrong? What causes us to look to others for what we should be able to give ourselves?
I guess I believe we shouldn't try so hard to seek validation, but we should be very grateful when we get it. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, after all. ;-)
If you follow my Facebook page, you may already know that I just won a contest with Dexter, a post I wrote a couple weeks ago. There was no cash prize, but getting first place out of 67 entries is very validating and rewarding. It says to me that I am on the right path, that perhaps I am good enough to make money with my writing someday. It's one thing for my friends and family to say they like my writing; it's quite another for those of you who read my blog and whoever judged that contest to say so.
The reality is, nobody should really need or seek outer validation; we should be able to validate ourselves. But why is that so hard? Are we afraid we're just being egotistical? Are we afraid of being wrong? What causes us to look to others for what we should be able to give ourselves?
I guess I believe we shouldn't try so hard to seek validation, but we should be very grateful when we get it. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, after all. ;-)
Friday, July 13, 2012
Sick Day + Puppy Pics
I hate calling in sick to work. I always have, even when I was just a courtesy clerk at a grocery store. And it has happened more than once that I have been sent home sick from work when I shouldn't have been there in the first place.
That being said, there are some days when it isn't a good idea to be using sharp instruments on live animals...like when you need to run to the bathroom on a moment's notice and keep a close eye on your trash can.
So here I sit, at home, upset that all my customers had to be rescheduled. More than just the idea of missing work, I HATE my customers being inconvenienced. But it's for the best; they wouldn't want me grooming their dogs in my condition anyway.
So I'm trying to cheer myself up with puppy pics of Hailey and Dillin.
Before I got Dillin, this was Hailey's best friend. He is a wire-haired dachsund, just two weeks older than Hailey, who belongs to one of my coworkers.
Seeing how Hailey interacted with Jonah and other dogs at work is why I decided to find a friend for Hailey in the first place. She used to HATE leaving work, and at home she'd act all depressed and sleep all the time.
She was so desperate for companionship that she would even sleep next to Rogue, a westie belonging to one of my coworkers, who is a little picky about who she likes and is not super thrilled with Hailey.
Here she is doing her best Snooki impression. She gets cold easily, and I didn't have heat at the time, so the sweater was for practical rather than fashion reasons.
And here she is portraying the horse head from "The Godfather."
She didn't like this haircut very much, but here she is laying next to another coworker's dog. This is Baker the bichon.
A week before Christmas, I found and brought home Dillin. This picture was taken the day after I got him, before I had a chance to try to fix the home haircut he came with. So yeah, I got my "child" a puppy for Christmas.
Two days after I got Dillin, first day bringing him to work. They aren't best friends yet, but at least they don't hate each other.
Dillin after his first haircut, looking not as scruffy.
Same day, both sharing the food bowl without complaint. Hailey isn't jealous! I was slightly worried since it had been just her and I for about 5 months before I brought Dillin home.
Play time!
Christmas Eve. I love this pic!
Friends!
This is one of my all-time favorite pics of them together. Hailey isn't usually quite so snuggly.
I tried to give Dillin a mohawk for a while, but I could never get it even.
Skinnier (but crooked) mohawk.
Play with me!!!
Dillin's current look.
Hailey's current look.
Playtime, blurry style.
OK, I know I feel better now, I hope I put some smiles on your faces as well. Enjoy your weekend!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Play time?
<object width="400" height="266" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/4263696081758" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/4263696081758" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="266"></embed></object>
I sure hope this works. I've been trying for an hour to get this video from my phone to this page. Nothing is cooperating. Whether or not this works, I will try to post something better later.
I sure hope this works. I've been trying for an hour to get this video from my phone to this page. Nothing is cooperating. Whether or not this works, I will try to post something better later.
The Impossible Dream
I don't know why, but this song popped in my head this morning. I love "Man of La Mancha;" it's one of my favorite musicals.
I love the theme of dreaming an impossible dream, reaching for an unreachable star. I think that is how we should all live our lives. Run headlong toward the giant; it may turn out to be a windmill, but you must go nonetheless.
So what are my "impossible dreams"?
I would have to say making a living by writing would be at the top of the list. I've always loved to write, but I never finished my college degree. I'm not sure how well I would enjoy being told what to write, anyway; I much prefer to write what I want.
So many people try to become famous writers, and so few succeed. I don't know exactly what the odds are, but they are probably slim enough to fall into the "impossible dream" category.
So that is one of my impossible dreams, to attain "fame and fortune" by writing. "Fame and fortune" might simply be being recognized in certain circles and earning enough money to write full time; I don't necessarily need to become the next J.K Rowling to feel I have attained fame and fortune. After all, fame and fortune are relative terms, are they not?
I suppose another impossible dream would be to find love one day. I know, I shouldn't look at finding love as impossible, but I have a very low tolerance for BS. Most of the time I would much prefer being single over putting up with somebody else's crap. I guess the key is finding somebody whose crap I can tolerate. I also have other standards in this category, so my pickiness (not for looks but personality) narrow the pool even further.
Let's see, any more impossible dreams?
I guess getting control over my weight. Less impossible than my first two impossible dreams, but daunting at best. I'm lazy and I love to eat; it is a constant battle to fight these demons.
Anyway, those are the impossible dreams I can think of for right now.
What is your impossible dream? Feel free to comment here or the Facebook page; I would love to hear about everybody's different dreams!
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Double Trouble
As my puppies get older (Hailey is a year and a half and Dillin is almost one), I use this term less frequently, but certain circumstances definitely warrant the phrases: double trouble, terrible twosome, deadly duo. OK, maybe not deadly, but they can certainly be trouble makers.
Between Hailey's smarts and agility and Dillin's...
Compulsiveness?
...They can cause quite a fracas. Just now, Hailey was getting possessive over a bone, so I took it away from her and stuck it here on the desk next to me.
I put it far enough away from the edge of the desk that she couldn't just stand up and reach it, so for her, it was out of sight, out of mind.
Then I saw Dillin's plan, pretty smart for him, driven by his intense need to chew on things and also have whatever Hailey wants.
He hopped up on the sofa and headed my way, eyes deadlocked on the bone. He was going to walk the staircase from the seat of the sofa, to the arm, to my desk. Sort of brilliant, but DEFINITELY not OK. My dogs are allowed on beds and sofas, but not desks, tables, or kitchen chairs.
So I had to move the bone to higher ground.
Double trouble also means I have to make sure my trash cans are well-secured, because it can mean knocking over trash cans for a Kleenex feast.
Look, puppy snacks! Certainly cheaper than actual dog treats (note: I do not encourage Kleenex eating).
It means that even though Hailey LOVES other dogs, if Dillin barks at a big dog and gets upset, she will too.
It also means they have grown to love each other so much that they hate to be apart. Every morning and every night when I come home from work, I let them out of their kennels and they Baywatch run to each other and hop on their back legs into a play hug. They have wire crates that are right next to each other and they can see each other, but after eight hours physically apart, it's like they're long lost lovers or something.
That is very cute.
Of course, occasionally their intense need to be together can cause problems, too.
A few days ago, Hailey was in her kennel so she wouldn't poop on the carpet (long story for another day), and while I was in the shower for 15 minutes, Dillin got bored without his sister and chewed a hole in the carpet.
O_o
So getting a five-month-old puppy when Hailey was still less than a year old was not brilliant on my part in many ways, but it also makes me feel better that they can play with each other while I am busy; and since they are so close in age, hopefully they will both live long lives together. Whoever gets left behind after the other passes will be devastated.
I will pass along more double trouble stories as they happen. Do you have any double trouble stories to add?
Between Hailey's smarts and agility and Dillin's...
Compulsiveness?
...They can cause quite a fracas. Just now, Hailey was getting possessive over a bone, so I took it away from her and stuck it here on the desk next to me.
I put it far enough away from the edge of the desk that she couldn't just stand up and reach it, so for her, it was out of sight, out of mind.
Then I saw Dillin's plan, pretty smart for him, driven by his intense need to chew on things and also have whatever Hailey wants.
He hopped up on the sofa and headed my way, eyes deadlocked on the bone. He was going to walk the staircase from the seat of the sofa, to the arm, to my desk. Sort of brilliant, but DEFINITELY not OK. My dogs are allowed on beds and sofas, but not desks, tables, or kitchen chairs.
So I had to move the bone to higher ground.
Double trouble also means I have to make sure my trash cans are well-secured, because it can mean knocking over trash cans for a Kleenex feast.
Look, puppy snacks! Certainly cheaper than actual dog treats (note: I do not encourage Kleenex eating).
It means that even though Hailey LOVES other dogs, if Dillin barks at a big dog and gets upset, she will too.
It also means they have grown to love each other so much that they hate to be apart. Every morning and every night when I come home from work, I let them out of their kennels and they Baywatch run to each other and hop on their back legs into a play hug. They have wire crates that are right next to each other and they can see each other, but after eight hours physically apart, it's like they're long lost lovers or something.
That is very cute.
Of course, occasionally their intense need to be together can cause problems, too.
A few days ago, Hailey was in her kennel so she wouldn't poop on the carpet (long story for another day), and while I was in the shower for 15 minutes, Dillin got bored without his sister and chewed a hole in the carpet.
O_o
So getting a five-month-old puppy when Hailey was still less than a year old was not brilliant on my part in many ways, but it also makes me feel better that they can play with each other while I am busy; and since they are so close in age, hopefully they will both live long lives together. Whoever gets left behind after the other passes will be devastated.
I will pass along more double trouble stories as they happen. Do you have any double trouble stories to add?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)